It's a dull affair, mooning about the streets, and there isn't time to go back to my chambers--in Lincoln's Inn." "I wonder," said I, as I ushered him into the room lately vacated by Miss Oman, "if you happen to be Mr.Jellicoe ?" He turned his spectacles full on me with a keen, suspicious glance.
"What makes you think I am Mr.Jellicoe ?" he asked.
"Oh, only that you live in Lincoln's Inn." "Ha! I see.

I live in Lincoln's Inn; Mr.Jellicoe lives in Lincoln's Inn; therefore I am Mr.Jellicoe.

Ha! ha! Bad logic, but a correct conclusion.

Yes, I am Mr.Jellicoe.What do you know about me ?" "Mighty little, excepting that you were the late John Bellingham's man of business." "The '_late_ John Bellingham,' hey! How do you know he is the late John Bellingham ?" "As a matter of fact, I don't; only I rather understood that that was your own belief." "You understood! Now, from whom did you 'understand' that?
From Godfrey Bellingham?
H'm! And how did he know what I believe?
I never told him.
It is a very unsafe thing, my dear sir, to expound another man's beliefs." "Then you think that John Bellingham is alive ?" "Do I?
Who said so?
I did not, you know." "But he must be either dead or alive." "There," said Mr.Jellicoe, "I am entirely with you.

You have stated an undeniable truth." "It is not a very illuminating one, however," I replied, laughing.
"Undeniable truths often are not," he retorted.